A traveler in Tennessee came across an aged negro seated in front of his cabin door basking in the sunshine.
"He could have walked right on the stage for an Uncle Tom part without a line of makeup," says the traveler. "He must have been eighty years of age."
"Good morning, uncle," says the stranger.
"Mornin', sah! Mornin'," said the aged one. Then he added, "Be you the gentleman over yonder from New York?"
Being told that such was the case the old darky said; "Do you mind telling me something that has been botherin' my old haid? I have got a grandson - he runs on the Pullman cyars - and he done tell me that up thar in New York you-all burn up youah folks when they die. He is a poherful liar, and I don't believe him."
"Yes," replied the other, "that is the truth in some cases. We call it cremation."
"Well, you suttenly surprise me," said the negro and then he paused as if in deep reflection. Finally he said: "You-all know I am a Baptist. I believe in the resurrection and the life everlastin' and the coming of the Angel Gabriel and the blowin' of that great horn, and Lawdy me, how am they evah goin' to find them folks on that great mawnin'?"
It was too great a task for an offhand answer, and the suggestion was made that the aged one consult his minister. Again the negro fell into a brown study, and then he raised his head and his eyes twinkled merrily, and he said in a soft voice:
"Meanin' no offense, sah, but from what Ah have heard about New York I kinder calcerlate they is a lot of them New York people that doan' wanter be found on that mornin'."